


The End of the Line.

by AshleyJinxxBiersack



Series: The End of the Road [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Carry On Wayward Son, Death, Denial, Family, Feels, I'm Sorry, Implied Destiel - Freeform, emotion, he doesn't want to die, the end of the road, the war is over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:09:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleyJinxxBiersack/pseuds/AshleyJinxxBiersack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You carried on my wayward son,</i><br/>there'll be peace now that you're done.<br/>Lay your weary head to rest,<br/>you don't have to cry no more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the Line.

There was a war.

It was the biggest war the world had ever seen, and it had been raging on for far too long.

No one knew how it came around, or who brought it on, or how they were going to end it, but everyone knew they wanted it to end because there were innocent lives being lost for no valid, justified reason. It was a war raging between every kind of creature the hunters had ever known and fought before, and there were a few they didn't know adding to the ranks. The angels had fallen, the demons had risen, and everything else in between just made up numbers.

So far, the demons had the winning side. It was the angels against the hunters, against everyone else. It was a losing battle before they'd even gone into this fight, but every single being was determined to go down swinging.

Dean Winchester had been no exception to this.

Dean had seen this battle from the very beginning. He'd seen the making of it, and he'd seen the bloodshed begin. He'd taken hundreds of lives in the first week alone just to protect himself and keep going. He'd made a promise that he wasn't going to go down unless he went down swinging, and God help whoever made him break that promise.

Almost a year down the line, and Dean was still fighting with everything he had left in him. He'd started to lose hope the moment he lost the only man that mattered to him most, but that didn't mean he'd just lay down and take it.

The eldest Winchester boy had fought bravely the entire time. No matter what was thrown at him, he'd bite back and break free, then move on to the next puzzle, and his angel was right beside him the entire time.

Castiel had given Dean strength when he was feeling weak, and a path when he was feeling lost. Dean spent a lot of nights crying, and Castiel had always been there to dry the tears away and pick up the pieces he could find. Dean knew he'd never find the words to express his eternal gratitude to the angel. Cas had given up so much for Dean, and Dean felt like he'd never be able to repay him that. Cas had been his light at the end of the tunnel, right until the very end when that light finally went out.

The war raged on around him, but Dean couldn't do anything about it.

He was in pain, and he was fading, he could feel it. With every ounce of his being, he didn't want to go down this way, but he was dying and he knew it. This wound had been too fatal. He hadn't been concentrating from the moment Castiel's scream filled his ears, and that had been his downfall. He hadn't gone down swinging, he'd gone down empty. Castiel's death had taken the last of whatever he had left to feel away from him. Dean was numb and empty and now only filled with pain. He didn't like it, but he knew there was nothing he could do. A growing part of him didn't _want_ to do anything about it. Dean knew his time was up, and he couldn't stop that now. Fate was finally getting what she wanted.

Castiel had been taken down by one of his own; an angel blade piercing his skin through that trench coat he'd grown to love so much. Light had filled his eyes and mouth, and with a scream and a burst of blinding light, he'd fallen for the last time. He lay on the damp, dirty floor, the silhouette of his wings spanned out either side of him, with one hand on his chest, and the other reaching out to where Dean lay, half-lidded eyes never leaving the human.

Dean was laying beside Castiel, hand pressing desperately to the fatal knife wounds in his chest and stomach while one hand reached out weakly for the fallen angel, tugging at the sleeve of his trench coat before falling pathetically to rest in his cold open palm.

"Cas," Dean choked out, tears filling his eyes and rolling down his blood-splattered face. " _Cas_!"

Castiel was gone and Dean wasn't ready to accept that yet. Castiel meant more to him than he'd ever admit out loud, but by God did he regret every second that Cas never knew.

Dean was dying and he knew it, but there was nothing left for him. Sam had been dead for months now, and Cas had been the only thing keeping him going and making him keep fighting. But they were both gone now, so Dean had nothing left.

Sam had died within the first month of the great battle. The Winchester brothers had been the bane of the supernatural world's existence for the longest time, so everyone had it out for them from the get-go. Dean had been so wound up in fighting his way out of an ambush that by the time he realised what was happening, it was too late. A demon had slit Sam through; a slice to his throat, and a knife in his back. Sam had dropped lifelessly to the floor, once-bright eyes staring over at Dean desperately, the final signs of fear fading from them as he choked out his last breaths, desperate to call for his big brother one last time. That image would haunt Dean for the rest of his life. It stayed with him throughout the whole battle. Dean very rarely slept in fear of his brother's eyes begging to save him when Dean knew he couldn't.

Dean had never experienced such a strong burst of emotion before that moment. He'd always been so careful and closed off, but the moment Sam had been viciously ripped away from him, the floodgates had opened, his heart had bared itself to the world, and he'd let go. He'd let go of all the pent up anger and sadness, the rage and the guilt. He'd yelled, and screamed, and brutally murdered every creature that had been around him before falling down beside Sam and crying. He begged and pleaded to anyone who was listening for Sam to come back, but he didn't. Not this time. This time was it. Sam wasn't coming back. With Castiel's help, Sam had been cremated this time, knowing there was no saving him now.

That moment was when Dean had promised himself he'd never stop fighting because that's what Sam would have wanted. His little brother, who'd been his entire world since he was four years old, would have wanted him to carry on until the war was won, so Dean did. He kept fighting, and he fought harder than he ever fought before. He fought for the memories he'd always hold onto, and for the moments him and Sam would never have.

Dean had always known that this much emotion could kill him, and he'd finally been proven right.

As Dean lay there bleeding out, he thought back on his life through everything he'd done and experienced, and he decided which moments he regretted, and which ones he didn't. He realised, that no matter what was happening, he never regretted a moment he spent with Sam and Castiel. They were his family and he loved them dearly. They were all he'd had for so long, and they were both gone now.

"Cas, please, I need you," Dean begged, feeling his body becoming weaker and weaker as his hand finally grabbed Castiel's, holding tightly. "I can't die, not yet. I promised Sammy I'd finish this one last battle for him."

"It's over, Dean. You've done your job."

Tears were streaming down Dean's face, and they only fell faster when he forced his eyes open to look beside him. Glancing up, the smiling face of the one woman he thought he'd never see again was watching him.

"Mom.."

Mary Winchester, even in death the most beautiful woman in Dean's life, was stood watching. Right beside her, holding her hand with a look of love in his eyes was John Winchester, a proud smile on his face as he looked at his eldest son. Bobby Singer made up the third member of the group, arms folded over his chest as he shook his head, the word _idjit_ passing through his lips. And right there, on Mary's other side, was the little brother Dean cried for every night.

"Sammy," Dean breathed, choking out a sob. Sam smiled sadly, nodding as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"It's over, Dean. For real this time," Sam said.

"I can't. I promised," Dean muttered, shaking his head and trying to sniff back the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

"You've carried on long enough, Dean," John said. "This war isn't yours anymore."

"Dad, this war has been mine since the moment it started," Dean insisted. John just shook his head.

"Boy, there's nothing more you can do. Just let go and get some rest," Bobby said.

"Bobby-"

"You should listen to your family, Dean."

"Oh God. Cas." If Dean hadn't been crying before, he definitely was now. The angel stood to the other side of Sam, smiling fondly down at the older brother. Castiel had always loved Dean, but Dean just didn't know that.

"There is no more you can do for this world. The fight is out of your hands. Just come to us and let someone else make this their family business," Castiel said. Dean choked out a sob, tightly closing his eyes and gripping Castiel's hand desperately. When Dean opened his eyes again, Castiel was knelt beside him, holding his hand out patiently for him to hold.

"Please. Not yet. I beg of you, not yet," Dean cried. "I need more time! Just a little longer. Please!"

"You've carried on enough, my son," John said.

"You can have peace, because now you're done," Bobby continued.

"Lay your weary head to rest," Mary said, voice still so soft.

"You don't have to cry anymore," Sam finished.

With a scream so broken and pained, Dean cursed the world and everyone in it for doing this to him; for fucking him over when he'd tried his whole life to make it a better place for people to live in. He swore, curse after curse, but no one could hear him now. He was fading, and when he felt the blood started travelling up his throat, he knew there was nothing he could do now. His time was over.

Dean's green eyes travelled the wreckage he was laying in, glancing at the bodies he could see and the people he could see still fighting. His eyes found Castiel's lifeless body beside him, still staring at him with that final question in his eyes, then he looked to the five people waiting for him in the next life.

Mary, with her eyes so soft and full of love and warmth.

John, with a smile so proud it beamed brighter than the sun.

Bobby, waiting patiently to hold both of his boys close to him again.

Castiel, with a mind still so hungry for knowledge and a heart wanting love.

And Sam, wanting nothing more than to be right by his brother's side again.

"Okay," Dean finally whispered. "I'm ready."

Dean's arm trembled as he lifted it from his bloody chest, but when he reached out, Castiel was more than happy to take hold of it and lift it to his face, smiling ever so softly as the light faded from Dean's eyes and the blood ran from his parted lips. Castiel was guiding Dean home again.

And it was there in the middle of the battlefield of humans and creatures alike, that Dean Winchester took his last breath.

**Author's Note:**

> I just.  
> I don't know.  
> I'm sorry. I did a thing. I was feeling a feel and then my friend sent me a photo and this happened.  
> I couldn't even proof read it properly before posting because I cried so much. Holy shit.  
> I apologise to anyone I broke with this one. I'm so sorry.  
> This makes me want to never see the end of Supernatural. I think I'll be crying far too hysterically to handle when that comes. I don't want that day to come. Help. I'm feeling a feel. ;~;


End file.
